


Another Man's Treasure

by oxiosa



Series: Brarg Week 2019 [5]
Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Latin Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Medical, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxiosa/pseuds/oxiosa
Summary: Sometimes, it’s parents who have to leave home empty handed to mourn for their child. Others, it’s  parentless children who stay in the hospital with no loving family to go to. The latter is Junior’s case.
Relationships: Argentina/Brazil (Hetalia)
Series: Brarg Week 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551520
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Another Man's Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> The characters used in this work belong to the community Latin Hetalia and their respective creators. More info about them in the following link > www.latin-hetalia.livejournal.com
> 
> Fem!Argentina: Martina Hernández  
> Brazil: Luciano Da Silva.

Martina’s job is hard work, but it’s usually very rewarding.

Most doctors work around pain and sickness, fixing what’s broken and fighting off death. Martina, on the other hand, does exactly the opposite; she helps bring and nurture life into existence. While other medics watch families fall apart, she watches them elope. While most medical professionals work around the sick, Martina brings children into the world.

It’s usually a high rewarding job, yes, but the times it is not, it is devastatingly heartbreaking.

It’s not often, for Martina works very hard to get her job done, but sometimes nature is stronger and there is nothing that can be done against death.

Sometimes, it’s parents who have to leave home empty handed to mourn for their child. Others, it’s parentless children who stay in the hospital with no loving family to go to.

The latter is Junior’s case.

It wasn’t Martina’s first delivery by far, and Junior was not her first premature baby either. She had been there when his mother - a young helpless girl who hadn’t even finished high school - came to hospital. Martina had been the one to take over the delivery, who had made the C-section and taken the baby out. She had been the first one to hold Junior as he cried his first breath of air and stared into the world. And she had been there when four days after the delivery, Junior’s mother disappeared, up and gone without a medical discharge or child. She had left, abandoned her newborn baby without a word.

They hadn’t thought he’d make it. Not so young, not without a mother.

He had been so small and fragile. Born on his 28th week, weighted almost a kilogram and was 30cm long from head to toe, he had looked almost like a toy. The NICU nurses had called him Junior. It had been a bit of a little harmless inside joke among them; he had broken the record as smallest premature baby ever in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

Against all odds, to this day Martina can say Junior has been in NICU for more than a month already. He has got bigger and stronger, and now they all hold hope for him. Martina follows his progress day by day, makes sure everything is ok. The worst has passed, but she still worries. She knows just how easily he can be gone, and has made it a personal endeavour to prevent harm to come his way.

The NICU is never quiet, but it’s also never loud. There’s always a little rumor of machines working, of people pacing and moving around, parents quietly whispering fondly to their children. It’s a little of a heartbreaking sight, to see all the small babies wired to machines and inside incubators for their lives. Makes the world seem a little darker to think this things happen.

Martina has grown used to the sight. She tries to see the bright side; if these babies are here, it’s because they still hold a fighting chance, and that should be celebrated, not mourned.

She smiles and greets all the familiar faces of parents and families, scattered around the large room in small groups gathered around their babies. She has arrived just in time for most of the child’s feeding, one of the little chances parents get to interact directly with their kids. It’s a little moving to watch such fragile moments between parents and children, but Martina has came here just for one child. She goes to the incubator who has only one lonely nurse doing a mother’s work.

Luciano smiles the moment he sees Martina approach. He sits by the incubator with little Junior on his lap, his dark brown eyes open and staring around with curiosity.

“Hi, babe,” Luciano smiles up at Martina.

Martina gives her husband a quick peck; nothing that will get them in trouble in the shared workplace.

“How’s he doing?” she asks staring at Junior.

“Oh, you know him, he’s grand,” Luciano smiles widely down at Junior, before looking up at Martina. “Wanna feed him?”

“Yes, please.”

It’s a little difficult maneuvering such a fragile tiny baby connected to multiple wires, but they are used to it by now. Luciano settles Junior on Martina’s lap, his small face close to her chest in a mimic of actual breastfeeding. He is still too small and week to suck on a bottle, so he is fed through a nasogastric tube on his nose that delivers the formula directly to his stomach, which leaves little work for Martina.

“Hi,” she coos down at him and gently rocks him.

Junior looks at her, wriggles excitated and lets out a little squeaky grunt.

“Hello to you too,” she smiles sweetly with a breathless little laugh.

“Thought you were on your lunch break,” Luciano comments as he watches them both with a fond smile on his lips.

“I am,” she answers.

Martina doesn’t turn to look at Luciano, too enamored with tiny Junior’s brown eyes to mind him. She does hears him sigh and mutters a prayer under his breath.

“You do know what lunch break means, right?” Luciano says exasperated. “You _ stop working _ and you _ eat _ .”

Martina looks up to Luciano, who is staring at her rather unimpressed, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t make a very serious sight in his Winnie-the-Pooh nurse scrub.

“I’ll eat something later in my office,” she replies as she gives Junior a finger to cling to.

“Yeah, surely some cereal bars and the candy I know you have stocked in your desk,” Luciano snorts. 

“I also have yogurt,” Martina replies.

“I’m talking about actual food, Martina.”

“I’m fine,” she says. She looks down at Junior, and gives him a smile. “Just wanted to check on my favorite patient.”

“Junior’s fine. He’s a fighter,” Luciano answers proudly. He switches back to scolding immediately though. “But you need to take a break and have something to eat. Come on,  _ Tinha _ . Let’s grab some real lunch.”

Martina doesn’t look up. Her smile falters, falls entirely, and she stares down at baby Junior like she fears they might take him from her. She caresses his face with the back of her fingers, gentle as if she fears he might break under her touch.

Luciano crouches by her side. He carefully pushes her long gold hair back and cradles her jaw with his hand. He gently guides her face in his direction; his eyes study her sorrowful and worried.

“Please,” Luciano begs. “You can’t help him if you get sick too.”

Martina looks down at the sleepy child between her arms. Junior’s eyelids grow heavier and heavier as a full belly works its magic.

“Ok,” Martina whispers, defeated. She remains quiet a moment, then confesses in a quiet broken whisper; “It kills me to leave him alone.”

Luciano humms, a little thoughtful sound. His thumb caresses Martina’s cheek, gentle and comforting. He doesn’t say anything for a brief moment.

“How do you feel about adoption?” he asks.

The question is so sudden it startles Martina. She looks up at Luciano, her green eyes wide and wild.

“I know we haven’t really  _ really _ talked about it,” Luciano blurts out. He grimaces, and continues a little apologetical. “But every time we even bring up kids it’s never the right moment, and maybe it is now...”

It certainly feels like it is, Martina thinks as she cradles a lonely child in her arms with her husband by her side.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right away,” Luciano says, looks away as a flush darkens his cheeks. He looks a little guilty, like he just proposed a dumb idea. “We can discuss it over-”

Martina doesn’t have  _ anything _ to discuss over.

“Yes.”

Luciano turns to her, and blinks as his thick eyebrows go up.

“Yes?” he repeats.

As her answer, she catches his face with her one free hand pulls him up for a kiss.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Martina huff a disbelieved laugh against Luciano’s lips. “Yes, Luciano, please, let’s take him home.”

Luciano cups her face, kisses her again. It’s sweet and slow, and completely inappropriate in a workspace. But it feels so right to share it right here, right now. They pull apart, and break into silly bubbly giggles.

“Would you like that?” Martina asks as she looks down at Junior, who by now is almost entirely asleep.

“Of course he would,” Luciano smiles. He gently tickles him under his chin, and Junior wriggles and tries to bat his hand away with a little frown. “Wouldn’t you, Lulu Junior?”

“We’re  _ not  _ calling him ‘Luciano Junior’,” Martina huffs.

“Well, he already is ‘Junior’. Seemed only fitting,” Luciano replies with a teasing smile.

Martina bursts into laughter, and for the first time ever she doesn’t complain when Luciano takes Junior away from her. He carefully settles him back into his incubator, and Junior is fast asleep by the time Luciano takes Martina’s hand and drags her away from the nursery with the promise of buying her lunch.

Martina follows, and can’t help the smile on her face; she leaves the NICU without guilt or worry, for the two of them will have plenty of time for their baby once they take him home.

**Author's Note:**

> ☑ Brarg Week - Day 6; Medical


End file.
